The Heart of Desire
by exeunt
Summary: Chapter 2 Uploaded Snogging (plenty), jealousy, lies, and betrayal lie in the past and present ... a Ron!fic, centred on how far he'll go, with HHr on the side. Please RR.
1. 00: Prologue

**The Heart of Desire**

_by Rapunzel_

  
**Disclaimer**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note**: The idea for this fic came to me after I watched _The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring_ for about the third time. g I thought it would be interesting to see what was the truth behind the Mirror of Erised and the conversation which took place about it from Dumbledore's point of view. Be warned, though, that it is rather abstract, and future happenings and character ships _are_ implied. This may be a prologue, and it may not, I haven't decided. Please review!

This fic is dedicated to Hotshot, for being a better person to me than anyone else ever has been. g 

_"So lately, been wondering  
Who will be there to take my place  
When I'm gone you'll need love  
To light the shadows on your face  
If a great wave should fall and fall upon us all  
Then between the sand and stone  
Could you make it on your own?"  
_--The Calling, "Wherever You Will Go" 

It was midnight, and all of Hogwarts was supposedly asleep. Albus Dumbledore chuckled, knowing that one or two mischief-makers were certainly still up and about. 

He put on his cloak, muttered, "_Invisiriam_," and left his office for his nightly stroll around the castle. Albus walked peacefully for a while, but gradually, his thoughts began to stray to Lord Voldemort, and to young Harry Potter. 

_Tom, oh Tom,_ he thought, _what have you done to yourself? What have you done to those that are innocent and those that you once loved? _Albus thought of Harry and the scar that would forever grace Harry's forehead, and of the parents Harry would never have. All of a sudden he felt very old. 

"I'm freezing! Let's forget it and go back." 

"_No!_ I know it's here somewhere." 

Albus smiled, amused. The voices no doubt belonged to Harry and his friend, the Weasley boy. Ron, was it? 

"It's here - just here - yes!" 

_The Mirror of Erised_. 

A cold chill seemed to descend upon Albus, until he shook himself sternly. _They are only children,_ he told himself. _They cannot know, they will not know, the full power of the Mirror of Erised. Evil lies not in their hearts . . . yet._

He followed them into the room as silently as possible. Harry must have dropped the cloak, for Ron and he were suddenly revealed. Harry ran to the mirror, and plastered himself as close to his reflection as possible. "See?" he whispered. 

"I can't see anything," Ron said, sounding impatient. 

"Look! Look at them all . . . there are loads of them. . . ." 

"I can only see you." 

"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am." 

Ron moved closer the mirror. Albus stood silently behind him. 

"Look at me!" Ron exclaimed. 

"Can you see all your family standing around you?" 

Albus let out a small sigh of relief. _It's all he sees, he does not know, it's only his parents he longs for. The secret is safe, so far._

"No - I'm alone - but I'm different - I look older - and I'm Head Boy!" 

"_What?_" 

"I am - I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to - and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup - I'm Quidditch captain, too!" 

_Rather ambitious, isn't he?_ Dumbledore mused. He smiled down at the two boys, ignorant of his presence. _So young, so innocent. They know nothing yet, and I hope they never will . . ._

Ron whirled around and stared at Harry excitedly. "Do you think this mirror shows the future?" 

_Oh, but if it did, young Weasley, if only it did . . ._

"How can it? All my family are dead - let me have another look - " 

_More have looked in it than you know, and more have seen worse than you see . . ._

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time." 

"You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents." 

"Don't push me - " 

_Already it begins to divide them, and over such trivial matters,_ Albus thought, sadly. For a moment he was young again, but in the midst of war. Grindelwald was drawing near, but his strength was running out. And for a moment, he saw, once again, the millions of dead bodies that littered the field where he had once played Quidditch . . . 

"Quick!" someone cried, and for a wild moment, he thought it was Cor, leader of their small rebel party. But Cor was years and years ago . . . Albus stood, chest rising and falling rapidly. _Memories are not easily gotten rid of, alas!_

All of a sudden the boys stopped bickering and disappeared once more. Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, appeared. Albus smiled. The boys were breathing incredibly loudly. No doubt Mrs. Norris heard them, but she left, shortly. 

"This isn't safe - she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on." 

They left. 

Dumbledore stood for a moment, and then strode purposefully across to the room, facing the mirror, but looking down. 

_When will you be brave enough to face your heart's desire, again, Albus?_ the voice mocked him inside his head. 

_When?_

This time, Albus waited for them in the room, determined to explain the Mirror to them when they arrived. Soon enough, he heard footsteps, but it was only Harry this time. 

_The mirror has a hold on only him,_ he thought. _I hope he shall not fall, as so many have done before him._

"So - back again, Harry?" 

Harry turned around, startled. "I - I didn't see you, sir." 

Albus smiled. _He is so young. It hurts to look upon him, sometimes. It has been so long since I felt that way, only afraid of a teacher catching me breaking school rules. _

_ Too long._

"So," he said, sliding off the desk he had been sitting on. Albus seated himself next to Harry. "You, like hundreds before you - " _Thousands,_ he thought, grimly, " - have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised." 

"I didn't know it was called that, sir." 

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?" 

"It - well - it shows me my family - " 

_Be glad that it is the only thing that it shows._

"And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy." 

"How did you know - ?" 

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," Albus said, indulgently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?" 

Harry shook his head. 

"Let me explain. The happiest man on Earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?" _Does such a man exist, anymore?_

"It shows us what we want . . . whatever we want . . . " 

"Yes, and no," Albus said, quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. 

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever _do_ run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now why don't you put on that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?" _If only I could follow my own advice._

"Sir - Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?" 

"Obviously, you've just done so. You may ask me one more thing, however." 

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?" 

Dumbledore froze. For a split second, he thought again of the cries and moans that had streaked the battlefield and hung heavy in the air. He heard their screams once more, rising far above into the sky. He remembered standing there, drenched in blood, some his own, some belonging to his comrades. He remembered sinking to the ground in defeat, ready to die, when Cor had come and saved him. 

_"You're our best man, Dumbledore, we can't lose you!" _

_ "Oh, Cor, what is there to live for? Virginia is dead, I failed to save her - "_ You could have! _his mind screamed,_ but your own safety was more important, wasn't it, Albus? You promised to come back, but it was too late, Grindelwald tortured her to death! All your fault, Albus, it's all your fault! _" - she trusted me, and I failed her! Half of our party has turned, enticed by what Grindelwald has offered, and the rest are either disabled, maimed, or dead. What is the use, Cor, what is the goddamn point?" _

_ Cor sighed, curly brown hair now a rusty red, as he was soaked with blood as well. _

_ "Al, I don't know the point. There may be no point any longer. But there's only us left, we've got to succeed." _

_ "It's impossible!" _

_ "Nothing is impossible," Cor said, fiercely. "I'll never leave you. We'll fight together, and we'll die together, you understand?" _

_ Albus raised his head, staring into Cor's eyes, as his own filled up with tears. "Cor . . . " _

_ "Shh, Albus, it's okay. Come on, we've gotta get cleaned up. You can't avenge Virginia looking like this!" _

_ Albus smiled weakly as he and Cor trudged off to their hideout, a small cave in the mountains, equipped with only a bucket of water and a keg of Pepperup Potion. _

_ But it was no use,_ Albus thought. _Cor . . . he died, the next day in battle, because of my betrayal, and then there was only me. _

_ You succeeded, didn't you? _

_ But they were all gone, all of them . . . there was no point. They're still dead, I should have died as well! Why didn't I?! I should have died!_

But the moment was fleeting, and lasted only a millisecond. Throat slightly choked, and tears threatening to spill, he tried to speak in as normal a voice as possible. "I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks." _I haven't looked in the Mirror for a long time . . . and I don't think I ever will, again. _

_ Scared to look yourself in the face, eh?_

"One can never have enough socks," Albus continued, trying not to sound as shaky as he felt. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving books." 

Harry stared. 

Albus smiled as Harry turned and left, walking as if in a trance. _So many years, so much bloodshed. There goes the boy who stopped it a second time, but not completely. I am too old now to be of much use. He . . . he is our hope now. He lived, and he goes without guilt. _

_ I hope he will never have to feel the guilt that I had to and still bear. A hopeless hope it may be, but what other choice does one have? He has people who love him and are still living, though Lily and James are gone. They love him, he will get through hard times because of their love. But - _

_ I hope he never has to make the choices I did. To choose between their lives and his death, between desire and morality; I hope it never comes to that. _

_ Poor boy. He has been handed such a heavy burden at such a young age, and I fear that it shall only increase. _

_ And her. _

_ They love each other. They do not know, yet, but they will. And I hope he will never have to make the choice that I once did. And if he does, I hope he will make the right one. _

_ There is hope, there has to be hope. There always will be hope. _

_ But hope exists with desire and greed and corruption as well. The heart of desire is pure. Desire itself either ruins or enhances. _

_ Dear boy. Her love will save you, but his desire shall destroy you both. _

_ When you hear of his betrayal, only remember - the heart of desire is pure. Spare him, remember your childhood love and brotherhood. His heart is pure. _

_ You could help,_ a voice inside his head said, viciously. _You could help, you could interfere, and save all three a lot of pain and bloodshed. _

_ Their fates are not mine to meddle in. _

_ Besides . . . I have proven a failure at making wise decisions. _

Dumbledore blinked. _The poor boy . . ._

And he did not know whether it was Ron or Harry he was thinking about. 

Back in his study, Dumbledore poured himself a cup of tea and sat at his desk, lost in his thoughts. Then, with a bitter smile, he raised his cup and looked heavenward. 

_To you, Cor. _

_ The heart of desire is pure, and as an angel, I hope you will forgive me . . ._

**A/N**: Yes, H/Hr was implied, and Ron's fall from grace was implied, as well. This may be a prologue to a longer fic, or it may not. *shrugs* I don't know, it depends on your response and how many reviews I get. Hint, hint. g 


	2. 01: The Inevitable

**The Heart of Desire**

**Chapter One: The Inevitable**

_by Rapunzel_

  
**Disclaimer**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note**: I want to thank you all who reviewed the prologue! I've got this whole thing planned out, now. Eleven chapters with an epilogue, but some events are still debatable. ^^ Those who adore Ron should be forewarned, as this fic does _not_. If you hold Ron in the highest esteem, then please stop reading and hit the "Back" button on your browser right now, because you won't be pleased. Anyway, if you're fine with the above…then read on! And it's PG-13 for a reason, mind you … some "descriptions" (they're fifteen-year-old boys … what can you expect?) and much snogging. Enjoy! Happy New Year!

"Time is a valuable thing  
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings  
Watch it count down to the end of the day  
The clock ticks life away  
It's so unreal  
Didn't look out below  
Watch the time go right out the window  
Trying to hold on, but didn't even know  
Wasted it all just to  
Watch it go."

–Linkin' Park, "In the End"

"Harry's here!" cried Ginny Weasley joyfully.  Ronald Weasley, her 15-year-old brother, rolled his eyes as he watched his younger sister jump up and down joyfully.  "Will she ever grow out of it?" he asked Fred and George, his 17-year-old twin brothers.

"Nah," said George, with a wink.  "And I don't think Harry minds all that much, do you, now, old boy?" as Harry walked in the kitchen, flushed a dark crimson.

"Now, come on, don't let Ginny bother you," Ron said, shooting dark looks at her.  She blushed and ran up to her room.

"It's okay," Harry muttered.  "I don't care, really."

"Harry!" a piercing shriek sounded throughout the kitchen.  Hermione Granger, Harry and Ron's best friend, ran and jumped on top of Harry.  "Harry, you're really here, I can't believe it, I've missed you _so_ much – "

"Er, well … " Harry said, turning an even darker shade of red, before being smothered by Hermione's hair.  Ron scowled.

"Have you gotten all your things yet?" Ron called, loudly.  "I mean, from Diagon Alley?"  Hermione had arrived a week before Harry, and everyday she'd been asking when he was supposed to come.

No response.

"Merlin, by the way they're going at it, you would think that they were in love and had been separated for about a thousand years," hooted Fred.

"They're not _going at it_," Ron said, crossly, "they're _hugging_.  It's _perfectly normal_.  She hasn't seen him all summer and she's just missed him a lot, that's all.  It's _completely_ platonic."

"Ach, ickle Ronnie-kins," said George, winking, "someday you'll have to learn the facts of life.  You see – "

But what exactly George had been about to say was interrupted by Molly Weasley, Ron's mother, coming in.  Hermione disentangled herself from Harry.

"Oh, good, Harry, you're here.  I was afraid those awful Muggles might have given you trouble and not let you come by Floo powder.  Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks."

"All right.  But if you need anything, don't hesitate to tell me.  Hermione, come with me.  Ginny needs help on one of the colors of her robes and won't trust my advice, and I think she might believe me if you supported my opinion, and – "

After Molly and Hermione left, Ron nudged Harry and said, "Hermione's been made a prefect.  I mean, it was expected, after all, but you should've seen her when she got the letter.  She was almost as excited as Percy!"

"I'm a prefect too, Ron."

"You – what?"

"I'm a prefect.  I just got my letter the other day, with my badge."  Harry took the silver badge out of his pocket and showed Ron.

"Oh … er … congratulations, then."

"Yea, thanks." 

Ron felt weirdly out of place and couldn't help feeling slightly jealous. _ Stop it_, he told himself. _This is Harry. We've already been through all of this last year._

"Weren't you made a prefect as well?"

"No."

"Oh … I'm sorry. I just thought that … since they made me a prefect, then they would've made you one, too … "

"It's all right." _Perfect Harry_, a voice nagged, inside his head. _Perfect Harry Potter, always gets everything, always the best, always …_

"Ron, are you okay? I don't want to get in a fight again, I can always turn down the prefect job if you want – "

"No, no, it's okay, it's not your fault."

"Really? So … it's okay, then?" Harry looked tremendously relieved.

"Yeah, no problem."

_I hate being a Weasley_, Ron thought, fiercely.

***Hogwarts, Fifth-Year***

School passed by uneventfully, much as it had the many years before.  Of course, they did have to take their O.W.L.s at the end of the year, but it seemed too far off to be of much concern.  Even Hermione hadn't started studying yet, so Ron reckoned that he didn't need to, either.

The only thing that bothered him was that Harry and Hermione being prefects.  They'd say bye to him, leave for the meeting, and return, giggling and whispering into each other's ears.  It wasn't that they ignored him; they always told him what they were talking about when he asked.  Ron just felt left out, and envious.  He tried to stop it, but whenever he saw them together, jealousy welled up inside him again.

"The way they're going at it, you would think that they were in love … " 

He knew it wasn't their fault that they'd been picked as prefects, and he did his best to shove his venomous feelings away.  But sometimes, it wasn't enough.

During the meetings, he'd wander around the common room, or talk to Dean and Seamus.  He'd always be restless until Harry and Hermione returned, though he wasn't sure why. 

And so the year continued in this fashion.  Dumbledore had decided to make the Yule Ball a Hogwarts tradition, to the excitement of some and the dismay of many. As the Yule Ball approached, Ron knew exactly who he wanted to ask, this year.  Last year, he'd been confused, and he had ended up getting into a nasty row with her, but this year he knew exactly who he wanted.

Hermione.

He didn't know whether or not she fancied him back, but he didn't think there was anyone else.  After all, she and Viktor Krum had decided to be just friends, and in a recent owl to Hermione, he'd said that he had a new girlfriend, Belladonna, or something.  Ron couldn't imagine Hermione with anyone else.

He wondered vaguely who Harry wanted to go with, but found, to his surprise, he didn't care.  Ron decided to give Harry a slight talking-to about Ginny, if Harry didn't have anyone else in mind.  But Ginny was a fourth-year now, and she didn't _need_ a date to go to the Ball.  Still, it might be nice, if Harry went with Ginny and he went with Hermione …

At night, in the dormitory, he asked Harry.  "Hey, Harry, do you have anyone in mind to ask to the Yule Ball?"

To his surprise, Harry replied, "Well, actually, I do."

"Really? Who?"

Harry squirmed uncomfortably.  "Well, see, if I do ask her, I'm afraid … er … _problems_ might arise."

"Really?" Ron's curiosity was aroused.  "What kind of problems?"

"Well … I'm afraid her … er … _friends_ might not approve."

"If you really do like her, then that shouldn't matter.  Does she like you back?"

"Yes, I'm fairly sure she does."

"Then ask her! Don't let her friends get in the way."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Ron.  I knew I could count on you."

"No problem, Harry."

"What were you going to ask me about, anyway?"

"Nothing, really.  Just about … Ginny.  She still likes you, you know."

"Yeah … look, I'm sorry that I don't like her back, I really am."

"No, no, that's not a problem.  I was just wondering if you knew anyone who would be willing to go with her."

Harry thought for a moment.  "Dean?"

Ron shrugged.  "Maybe."

"Is there anyone you want to ask, Ron?"

"I … don't know," Ron said, not wanting to reveal to Harry his feelings about Hermione just yet.  He wanted to surprise Hermione – ask her _at_ the ball.  "I'm not sure if I'm going to ask anyone to the Ball at all … maybe if I see someone there."

"Oh.  Good choice."

"Is Hermione going?"  Ron's heart raced.

"Yeah, probably."

"Is she going with anyone?"  Now Ron was positive that he was going to explode.

"Not that I know of."  Harry sounded strange.

Ron let out a sigh of relief.  "Oh.  I see."

"If she _does_ dance with someone … you're not going to get mad at her and have another row again, are you?"

"No." _Not if she's dancing with me_, he thought.

"That's good then."

"Yeah.  'Night, Harry."

" 'Night, Ron."

The Yule Ball finally came.  Most of Hogwarts had stayed in anticipation, and practically everyone fifth-year and above had paired up.

Dean _did_ ask Ginny, and Ginny said yes.  Draco arranged to go with Pansy, as was expected, and even Crabbe and Goyle got dates.  Crabbe went with Blaise Zabini, while Goyle went with some poor fourth-year.

"She's not even that bad looking," Ron said.

"Yes, her nose _is_ dead-center, isn't it?" Hermione replied, scathingly.

"So is yours," said Ron.

There was an awkward silence in the room.

"Why do you say that?" asked Hermione, blushing.

"Because … it is.  What's the big deal?" said Ron, flustered.

"Nothing, I – just never mind."

The three of them left for the Great Hall together.

At around four, Hermione excused herself and left for the girls' dormitories. "She's gone to prepare even earlier than last year," Ron said, looking at Harry's watch.  "I wonder who's she trying to impress?  You sure she isn't going with anyone?"

"Positive," said Harry through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Going with anyone to the ball, yet?"

"Nope.  After the experience with Parvati last year, I'd rather not go with anyone … might ask someone at the ball, though."

"Yea, same."

They went outside to participate in Fred and George's snowball fight until around an hour before the dance and then went back to the Gryffindor boys' dormitory.  Ron had gotten new dress robes (thankfully) from Fred and George, and they were a dark, wine-colored shade of red … much better than the ragged, frilly robes from last year.  Harry had purchased new robes as well, as he had outgrown last year's. They were the same color as last year's, though more in style.  Ron kept pressing Harry about his mystery girl, but Harry only said that Ron would find out at the ball.  Harry managed to tame his unruly hair a bit (though a few tufts stuck out here and there).  To Ron's immense surprise, Harry then proceeded to spritz on some cologne.

"_Cologne?_" Ron exclaimed, amazed.  "_Who_ is this girl, exactly?  Harry, you've gone mad!"

Harry grinned.  "Want some?"

"Er … "

"Just spray a little, it won't hurt you."

"Okay, fine."

And then – 

"You need to be careful with that stuff, Ron … " Ron had sprayed it all over his robes and in his hair.

Harry helped Ron magick it out, and soon the Yule Ball was about to start in five minutes.

Ron and Harry hurried down to the common room.  Ron craned his long neck, looking for Hermione.  And then his jaw dropped.

"Look!" he cried, hoarsely, to Harry.  "There's Hermione!"

Harry looked.  His jaw dropped as well.

She stood there, smiling sheepishly, as Lavender and Parvati crowded around her, not looking very pleased.  Ron could hear their distant remarks, such as, "How _did_ you do that?  You look _very_ different from usual, Hermione.  I mean, I never thought you were pretty."

She was wearing robes of a pastel blue, and over the fabric was a sheer layer of light, light blue, that shimmered in the light and cast a soft glow about her.  It clung flatteringly to her figure, accentuating her hips and breasts.  Underneath her robes peeked out two slippers, the same color as her robes; Ron had never noticed how tiny Hermione's feet were.  Her robes were low-necked, shaped in a V, and were not very modest, to say the least.  She seemed to be wearing a petticoat as well – Ron could see the lace ruffles.  Hermione was also wearing a necklace, a thin silver chain with a heart-shaped pendant, that showed off her collarbones amazingly well … and her cleavage, too, Ron noted, blushing.  She had silver studs in her ears, as well, with light blue jewels in the centre.  Her hair was left cascading down her shoulders; she hadn't used Sleekeazy's this year, and had instead styled her hair into soft waves, which curled enchantingly at the tips.  She was wearing shimmery eye shadow, and it appeared to Ron that she had even plucked her eyebrows.  Her lips were a light pink with a subtle shine, and Ron couldn't tell if her blush was charmed or if it was real, though he appreciated her cheekbones all the same.

Ron cast a side glance at Harry, tearing his eyes away from Hermione for a moment.  Harry appeared to be as transfixed as he was, staring at Hermione.  Ron turned to look at her as well.  _She looks even better than last year_, he thought.  Eventually the heat of their gazes drew Hermione's attention, and she saw them.  She smiled at Ron, and her blush deepened as she looked at Harry.  Hermione walked over, pushing through Parvati and Lavender, and stood next to Harry.  Ron felt a small pang of jealousy shoot through his heart.  _Stop it_, he told himself, _you know Harry's going to ask some other girl to dance.  Hermione's for you._

He straightened and resolved to ask her after three dances.

Harry swallowed nervously as Hermione smiled up at him.  He'd gone through his growth spurt over the summer, and was now a head taller than Hermione.  "You, er, look really nice, Hermione," he said, earnestly.  "Is that the necklace I gave you for your birthday?"

"Yes," replied Hermione, smiling, "it's really pretty, Harry.  How did you know blue is my favorite color?"

"I dunno … just thought you'd like it."

She smiled again, lips shining.  "Shall we go, then?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." He turned to Ron, who was scowling fiercely.  "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he muttered.  "I'm all right.  Let's go."

Hermione considered putting her arm through Harry's, but saw Ron's stormy expression and decided against it.  She inhaled deeply, smelling Harry's cologne.  She felt blithe, and stole a glance at Harry.  He was still blushing, and staring at her.  She'd hoped he would notice, and was glad that he did.  _I wonder if he'll ask me to dance,_ she thought.

_Damn Ron_, she thought, as Ron glared at Harry.  _He's so transparent, yet he can't see what's staring at him straight in the eye.  Even Parvati noticed that I fancy Harry, but Ron won't acknowledge it.  I wonder if Harry knows …_ She sighed.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, looking worried.

Hermione had to smile – Harry looked so adorable when he was concerned.  "Nothing, I just – " but stopped as she stepped through into the Great Hall.

"Merlin," Ron whispered.

The Great Hall had been transferred into some sort of Candy-land.  Huge candy canes and wreaths graced the doors, and mistletoe hung about in the oddest of places.  Enchanted snow fell delicately to the ground, and vanished upon contact.  Fǽries fluttered about, singing carols, and huge fir trees were positioned around the Hall.  Instead of House tables, there were instead numerous round, circular tables, with velvet-padded gilded chairs and menus that sparkled in the light.  In the centre of each table was a miniature Christmas tree, with a fǽrie seated on top, glowing.  The Weird Sisters had been hired again, and stood upon a stage, wearing their usual costumes, but with a red dragon-hide Father Christmas hat, torn as well.  They had already started singing a slow, mournful tune.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry went to get themselves some pumpkin juice.  Fred and George came over and started talking avidly to Ron about a charmed Christmas card there were going to send to Percy at the Ministry, and it was then that Harry spoke.

"Hermione, can I talk to you for a moment?  Privately, outside?"

"Sure, of course, Harry."  Hermione's heart skipped a beat.

Taking her hand, he led her through the dancing couples to the gardens outside.  Sitting down on a bench, he sighed.

"Harry, is everything okay?"

"Yes, yes, everything's fine.

"Then what is it?"

Harry was silent for what seemed like eternity to Hermione.  In truth, it was only for a few minutes.

Then he opened his mouth and began to talk.

"Hermione, I've been wanting to say this to you for a long time.  I apologize if I ever was a git to you; I admit that sometimes I _am_ a prat.  It's only recently that I've discovered how I feel about you … I think I realized it around the beginning of this year, when I saw you at the Burrow, but I know I've always loved you, even before I met you.  I don't want you to think that I ever really felt anything for Cho – " here Hermione stiffened " – because it was just a little schoolboy crush.  You're a part of me, you've always been, and you've always been there for me.  I don't know what I'd do without you … I'm sorry if I've ever hurt you, in any way.  Being who I am, I know that I may not live another day, and if anything ever happens, I want you to know that I love you.  Voldemort hasn't done anything yet, but he might, anytime soon.  Hermione – " She threw her arms around him.

"Harry," she breathed, and was close to tears.  Her eyes glistened in the moonlight, and a few warm, salty tears slid slowly from her eyes down her cheeks.

"Don't cry," said Harry, and wiped away her tears awkwardly.  "I didn't mean to make you cry.  I mean, I know you don't love me, I know that it's Ron you want, that you're hankering after – "

"_What?_" she cried, but Harry put a finger to her lips and continued staunchly.  He looked as if he stopped, he'd never continue again.  Hermione felt as if she was suffering some sort of exquisite torture, as if her heart was being slowly ripped apart.

"If I can't make you happy, and Ron can, then I want you to be with Ron.  I know you worry over me, Hermione, and I don't want you to have to suffer through that worry.  I just want you to be happy, Hermione, even if you're not with me.  You're the only person I love, Hermione, and if I can't make you happy, then I want you to be with someone who can.  I'll only cause you pain, and strife, Hermione, and I don't want you to bear that pain.  I just want you to be happy, Hermione.  I love you."

There was a pause, with Harry looking at her nervously.

"I don't love Ron, Harry, where on Earth did you get an idea like that?"

"He looks at you," Harry said, looking away, "and I've seen you looking back at him."

"When?  Rest assured, if I've ever been looking at anyone, it's not him.  I don't love Ron, Harry, like _that_.  I love Ron as a friend, but I'm not _in_ love with him."

"Then – then who is it?"  He raised his head and looked at her.

She gazed into his eyes.  "Why, I thought you would've known."

Harry looked at her silently, waiting.

"You, of course … who else did you think it would be?"

"You're not just saying that because you feel sorry for me?"

She seated herself in his lap and clung to him, feeling slightly cold, and relishing his warmth.  "You know me, Harry … would I do something like that?"

He thought for a moment, and then chuckled.  "No, you'd kindly but regretfully inform me that you don't return my affections."

Hermione laughed.  "Yes, I imagine so … "

Harry wrapped his arms around her, and was silent.

"Do you love me?"

"Love you?  Of course!  And I've known it longer than you have – I've known it since you saved me from that horrid troll in our first year at Hogwarts.  When you shoved your wand up its nose, I knew … "

"Ah, nothing more romantic than troll bogies, eh?"

She slapped him playfully.  "No, there's nothing sexier than troll bogies, Harry."

He smiled down at her upturned face.  "You're beautiful, Hermione."

In response, she reached up and kissed him.  Stars exploded before her eyes, as he tightened his grip around her and she put her cold little hands underneath his shirt, drawing circles on his back.  She could feel his spine and each individual rib and the contours of all his muscles; Harry let out a small moan.

Their kiss deepened.  Hermione broke away, breathing heavily, but Harry bent his head and planted kisses all over her neck and collarbone, moving downward, taking advantage of her plunging neckline.  It was Hermione's turn to moan.

"Mmm, Harry … " She pocketed his glasses in her robes, and dug her hands into his hair.  "No, don't stop … "

Ron stood, hidden by the rosebushes, hearing his two best friends snog.  He couldn't bear to watch them.  First he felt betrayed; then despair, which turned to anger.

Once released from Fred and George's conversation, he'd looked around for Harry and Hermione, but couldn't find them.  Figuring that Harry had probably gone off to ask his mystery girl to dance, and that Hermione had probably been asked herself (more than one boy had stopped dead in his tracks and gawked at her), he settled himself down comfortably and drained glass after glass of pumpkin juice.  _It's only the second dance,_ he told himself, _I'll look for her later._

The third dance ended and the Weird Sisters struck up a faster beat.  Ron finished his drink and got up, looking for Hermione.  He saw Dean and Ginny glancing shyly at each other, and went over.

"Have you seen Hermione anywhere?"

Ginny smiled devilishly at him.  She knew what he wanted to do.  "No, I haven't."

Dean gestured towards the gardens.  "I saw Harry leading her there at the beginning of the Ball … "  All of a sudden Ginny looked crestfallen.

Ron smiled sympathetically at Ginny.  "Oh, well, I'm off then.  Have fun, you two."  He turned and left.  Harry had probably asked her about the girl he liked, or something.  He hoped they were done, now, he really did want to dance with Hermione.

He exited the hall, while batting a fǽrie out of his way.  He walked, whistling cheerfully, passing snogging couples on the benches.  Ron passed a couple that looked familiar.  Were they Gryffindors?  He paused to take a look –

_It's Harry and Hermione!_

Feeling at once that he was wrong, he soothed himself quickly.  _They wouldn't do something like that to me, and, besides, Hermione isn't like that – she wouldn't snog in public.  She fancies me, she wouldn't be snogging Harry …_

But closer inspection revealed that it was indeed Harry and Hermione.

_No_, Ron thought, wildly.  _Hermione wants me – me … I know it.  No …_ he sagged against a tree.  Then he crept behind a rosebush near the snogging couple and sat down on the ground, not caring what happened to his robes.  As they gave no sign of stopping (judging from the sounds that increased in intensity and frequency) he raced to his room, knocking aside stunned students.  He threw himself onto his bed, feeling numb.

Only one thought kept recurring through his mind.

_How could they?_

**_How could they?_**

****

"I tried so hard and got so far  
But in the end  
It doesn't even matter  
I had to fall and lose it all  
But in the end   
It doesn't even matter"

–Linkin' Park, "In the End"**__**

****

TBC.

**A/N**: Find out what happens next in _Chapter Two: Darkness Brewing_.  We all know, from GoF, that Ron can be slightly mentally unstable when it comes to Harry – what will his reaction be when he comes to his sense?  How is he going to treat Hermione, and most of all, Harry?  What's Ron going to do?  How is the rest of the school going to react, and _Witch Weekly? Teen Witch? The Daily Prophet? _Oh, and whatever is going to happen to Dean and Ginny?  Please R/R.


	3. 02: Darkness Brewing

**The Heart of Desire **

Chapter Two: Darkness Brewing

_by Rapunzel _

**Disclaimer**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. "Nobody Knows" belongs to Tony Rich Project and is definitely not mine.  
**Author's Note**: I left FFN for awhile and didn't intend to come back ... until I kept getting reviews in my inbox from you guys, piquing my interesting once again. Thanks, it meant a lot to me.  
**A/N continued**: I upped the rating to an R just to be safe. If you don't think it deserves it in this chapter, rest assured, it will. Well, here it is: the second chapter of HoD, Darkness Brewing. It gets darker, it gets hotter, the Mirror of Erised finally makes an appearace, and Ron goes, er, slightly ... bonkers. Enjoy!

_"I pretended I'm glad you went away  
These four walls closing in more everyday  
And I'm dying inside  
And nobody knows it but me  
Like a clown, I put on a show  
The pain is real even if nobody knows  
And I'm crying inside  
And nobody knows it but me."  
_-Tony Rich Project, "Nobody Knows"

Throughout the whole night, one thought ran through Ron's mind - How could they?

He didn't know.

Around three o'clock Harry returned to the dormitory. He pulled open the curtains to Ron's bed, but Ron evened his breath and put on a pretense of being soundly asleep. He heard Harry heave a sigh and let the curtains fall. Five minutes later, he opened his eyes wide.

He'd never been more awake in his life. The time on his clock slowly ticked by, as he watched the numerals flicker and then change. It was four o'clock, then five o'clock, then six o'clock ... Ron felt numb. His mind had simply been reeling with shock until around five-thirty and then he'd wondered where he'd gone wrong.

Ron felt strangely calm now. Normally he would've flown into a rage, like last year, but now he just felt numb.

He should've gotten it out of Harry, and then maybe they could've worked it out. He should've told Hermione, maybe she wouldn't have said yes to Harry._ He should've, should've, he should've ... but didn't. _

No use crying over spilt milk, he told himself, fiercely. _What's done is done and there's no looking back._

He had to bite his lip to hold back from the tears that threatened to spill. _And she had to go to Harry ... perfect Potter, perfect Harry Potter, always gets everything, fame, attention, money ... Hermione ... perfect Potter, perfect Potter, perfect Potter,_ over and over again in his head until it became something like a mantra -_ Perfect Potter, perfect potter, Harry Potter, sodding perfect and faultless at everything ... _

It isn't right, a voice spoke in his head, _you shouldn't rag at Harry like that. You know it's not his fault. _

I don't care, Ron answered, fiercely. _He's got everything a wizard could dream of, and now he has Hermione, too. Hermione's mine. **Mine.** _

Hermione doesn't belong to anyone, and especially not Harry, you know that. She belongs to herself. Hermione isn't like that.

I don't care, how many times do you have to hear that? I don't care! It's all Harry's fault! I hate Harry! I hate Harry!** I hate Harry!**

Clenching the bed sheets in rage, he slowly tried to calm himself down. _Oh, Merlin ... I can't believe I just thought that. _Ron slowly got out of bed and pushed aside the curtains to Harry's bed, gazing down at his best friend.

Harry was fast asleep, looking naked and unprotected without his glasses. Once, during a Charms lesson, he'd cracked his glasses beyond repair, and had gotten his eyes fixed by Hermione in secret. Afterwards, Ron had helped him purchase a fake pair, which he wore out of habit, and so that the press wouldn't have a field day.

Ron's eyes fell on Harry's scar. _Everything I ever wanted, ever dreamed of, lies in that scar, he thought. If it wasn't there - what would be different? What would have changed?_

"Bugger," he cursed, vehemently.

Harry stirred and Ron jumped back, startled. The curtains fell back to their original positions. It was six-thirty now, and Ron decided to get up. No use staying in bed, anyway, and he didn't feel tired at all.

Fifteen minutes later, after he'd showered and dressed, he'd returned to find Harry ready as well, watching him. "Er ... good morning, Harry," said Ron, struggling to conceal the jealousy that had arose anew at the sight of the Boy Who Lived.

"Ron, there's something I have to tell you," Harry said, solemnly.

"Erm ... okay, what've you done, now?"_ You don't have to tell me, he thought, I already know, and I'm in hell because of it._

Harry squirmed. "Well, see, last night, at the Yule Ball, I, uh, told Hermione how I felt about her."

Ron did his best to conform his face into an expression of shock. "What? Hermione? What do you mean, 'how I felt about her'?"

"Well, ah, see, Ron ... I've fancied Hermione for a long time I've just been too much of a bumbling git to realize it. So I told her last night, and, Ron, guess what - she fancies me back!"

"Wow! That's really great to hear, Harry ... are you dating now, then?"

"Er ... I dunno, I haven't asked her about it yet."

"Oh ... okay." Ron tried to smile brightly without giving away his true feelings inside. Apparently it worked, because Harry didn't look at him strangely or anything. It felt like the hardest thing to do in the world, smiling at that instant. "Shall we go down to breakfast, then? Maybe Hermione'll be there " -_ and tell you last night was all a mistake and that she seriously regrets it and wants to be with me._

"All right."

So they left.

Harry thought that Ron had taken it rather well, really. He'd been afraid Ron would explode at the news, as he suspected that Ron fancied Hermione himself. But apparently, he didn't, after all. Harry really hadn't wanted a repeat of last year's events over the Tri-wizard Tournament. As for Hermione - he smiled inwardly, in anticipation of seeing her. Hermione. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her ... and she loved him back. As he shut the door to the dormitories and followed Ron down the stairs, he told himself,_ Stop it, you're being stupid ... it's not even seven yet, Hermione won't be up._

But a blur of brown hair and black robes proved him wrong, as she flew into his arms. "Harry! You're awake! I wanted to go to your dormitory and wake you up, but I was afraid you wouldn't want me to ... "

He inhaled the sweet scent of her hair and then reached over to kiss her cheek. "Why? You know you're better than any dream I could be having, love." It was the first time he used that word towards a living person: love. Harry felt as if, any moment now, Hermione might push herself out of his arms and say, "What are you doing? I hate you!" or something equally heart-wrenching. Instead, she tightened her grip around him, and then looked up. Harry gazed down at her, memorising features already carved permanently into his heart. So absorbed was he, that he didn't even notice Ron quietly exiting the common room. Then Hermione spoke:

"We need to talk, darling."

_Uh oh,_ said Harry, mentally. "Er ... okay. About what?"

Hermione led him over to one of the chairs near the fire. As Harry sat down, she settled herself comfortably on his lap and rested her head against his chest. "About - about last night."

"Why?" Harry was suddenly nervous. "Do you regret it, or something? Because I'm really sorry if you do, you know, I never meant to push you into - "

Hermione smiled and shushed him. "No, silly. I wanted to talk to you about the effect it would have ... on us. I couldn't sleep last night, I was down here the whole time. I was just thinking ... Are we an item? Were you drunk last night? And ... what about Ron?"

Harry laughed. "No, I wasn't drunk, Hermione ... unless you wanted me to be."

"Well, if it makes you pleasantly uninhibited and willing to experiment, sure, but you know that's not what I mean, Harry."

Harry grinned. "Ah, I see. I wasn't drunk, though, but I'm perfectly willing to experiment when I'm sober, just to let you know, if that's what you want." He took her hand and started to kiss his way up along her arm, relishing her flavor. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, exactly, but he certainly knew he wanted more. "You taste ... good, Hermione." His breathing was ragged.

Hermione turned scarlet. "Ahem, well, that's nice, then." She looked around the common room. "But what about Ron?"

Harry shrugged, busy sucking her shoulder. "I spoke to him this morning, and he congratulated me, that's all. He didn't look mad, though, but he was up really early. Where is he, anyway?" he asked, his voice muffled against her neck.

"Probably eating breakfast. Just one more thing, Harry," she said, blushing, as his hand crept slowly up her shirt, "are we dating?"

"What do you think?" Harry said, as she moaned.

"I - I guess so ... "

Harry checked his watch. It was around six-fifty. "Then we are. We've got around forty minutes before everyone wakes up, what do you say we ... ?" He grinned suggestively.

"You don't even have to ask, Harry."

She pressed his head to her neck as he continued to slowly climb up it, sucking hard on sensitive spots, stopping only when he was certain he had made a mark. Harry wanted to leave his mark all over her smooth, white body, letting the world know that she was his. He delighted in feeling her shiver underneath his fingertips, in hearing her throaty moans. He finally reached her mouth and kissed her slowly, letting his tongue creep in and explore a little. She was willing, opening as far as he wanted to go and giving him whatever he wanted. Still slightly apprehensive, he withdrew, and whispered, "Are you all right?"

She whimpered and tried to pull him close to her again. It was the only answer he needed. Harry slipped a finger under her bra, caressing her semi-hardened nipples. She moaned again and tried to push his head down but he quieted her by placing his mouth over hers instead. After several minutes, he finally heeded her and bent his head to pay better attention to her full breasts, pushing her shirt up almost violently. Hermione held him there, as he tried to take as much of her sweet flesh in his mouth as possible.

"That feels so good, Harry. Don't stop, don't ever stop ... "

It took a great deal of willpower for Ron not to rip the portraits apart, piece by piece, as he walked away from Harry and Hermione. _I can't believe them ..._

The house elves had just finished setting up the table for breakfast. Ron was the only one down, though he barely noticed it. He sat down hard at his usual spot at the Gryffindor table and munched on a piece of unbuttered toast, too preoccupied to actually taste it. Not feeling hungry at all, he decided to go up to the Owlery. He didn't want to go back to the common room for fear of killing Harry and Hermione on the spot.

The anger he felt inside scared him, yet he felt some strange sort of satisfaction in it. He stomped up until he heard the familiar hooting of owls. He grabbed a piece of parchment from the stack the school provided and ripped it apart, then threw it out the window. Then he proceeded to start upon another, and another, and another ... he just stood there, mutilating bits and pieces of parchment.

"Mad, Weasley?" a silky voice sounded throughout the room.

Ron jumped. "Malfoy?"

Draco stepped out of the shadows. "Why, hello, Weasley, fancy seeing you here ... why are you alone, and at such an early hour, at that? And where's Potty and the Mudblood?"

Normally Ron would've torn Draco's throat out at him calling Harry and Hermione such names, but he found, to his surprise, that he didn't care, that he wished Draco would continue, because they deserved it. "No, they're still down in the common room."

Draco looked surprised that Ron didn't try to attack him, even disappointed. "Why aren't you with them?"

"Because they're ... er ... sleeping. It's early, like you said." He was mad, but he wasn't about to rat on them to Malfoy.

"Be discreet, Weasley. Any fool could tell you were lying. But that's all right, I don't care." He shrugged his delicate shoulders and crossed his arms.

Draco Malfoy had developed into a rather handsome boy, though the sneer that he usually wore distorted his face. His hair was white, with a few streaks of blond, and he had cold, icy, grey eyes (that tended to make first-years faint whenever he casted a piercing glance at them), prominent cheekbones, a classical nose, and pale, pale translucent skin. Draco's skin was even whiter than his hair, if that was possible. He was rather tall, around six feet, and moved with an odd sort of grace that made you notice him as soon as he walked into the room. Harry had the same quality, Ron thought, except Harry's was more vibrant and sudden, while Draco's was cool, calm, and quiet. Both were overpowering. When they were near each other, or in the same room, it was practically unbearable.

Draco was brilliant, though. The only other fifth-year smarter than him was Hermione, and Hermione was sort of a prodigy. Well, not exactly, but Ron doubted there were any other students in Hogwarts that were smarter and more determined than her.

"Why should I tell you? What are you doing here? How long have you been watching me?"

Draco laughed. "One at a time, Weasley. I'm here ... because I sent an owl to my father and I was just about to leave when you came storming in ... so I've been watching you since you came. It's rather amusing to watch a big-footed prat such as yourself go stomping around, ripping parchment apart ... such a waste, Weasley ... surely they don't let you do that back at home? I'm sure one piece of parchment is equivalent to your father's yearly wages."

Instead of flying into a rage, Ron felt strangely calm. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Malfoy leaned closer. In a low, hissing voice, he whispered, "I know what you want, Weasley ... your deepest, darkest, and most desperate desire. I know she haunts your dreams ... and I know you came here because of them. But I can help you ... if you want."

"How - " Ron spluttered.

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I admit that we have been rather contrary towards each other in the past, but I'm willing to change. You are a pure-blood, after all. Let's put aside our differences and have a chat, shall we?" He smiled. Ron was completely unnerved by Draco's bizarre behavior.

"Get away from me," he said, shaking and backing away. "I may be upset, and perhaps you know the reason, but that doesn't mean I've gone so low as to associate with _you_. Don't ever talk to me again!" Nearly hysterical, Ron fled from the Owlery back to the Great Hall.

And still, Malfoy's words echoed in his head. _I know what you want ... deepest, darkest, and most desperate desire ... I can help you, if you want ... if you want._

He ran to the Great Hall and paused for a moment before entering, struggling to calm himself and taking deep breaths. When he was certain that he was breathing normally again, he nonchalantly strode over to the Gryffindor table ... where he was confronted with the image of Harry and Hermione feeding each other pieces of buttered toast. _Merlin, he's sucking more of her fingers than the toast._

Noticing him, they paused in their activities. "Oh, er, good morning, Ron," said Hermione, awkwardly. "We were wondering where you were. We were getting quite worried, actually." Ron snorted, mentally.

"Yes ... " Harry trailed off, as he and Hermione exchanged significant looks. "Sure you're feeling all right?"

"Yea, whatever," Ron said, sitting down next to Harry and taking a generous helping of scrambled eggs. "I'm fine." But Harry was no longer paying attention, and was now gazing at Hermione as she gazed back at him. Ron could still hear Malfoy's malevolent whispers.

_If you want._

Ron sat there, a mixture of emotions tangled up inside him. Anger, jealousy, disgust - he couldn't tell. But he knew he had to get out of there.

"I'm not hungry," said Ron in a strange voice, "I ate already. I think I'll go back to the common room."

"Mm," gasped Harry.

_Ugh_, Ron thought. He couldn't take Hermione and Harry snogging much longer. He practically fell off his seat as he tried to get up and avoid touching the couple.

He didn't know where he was going or why. He just walked around heedlessly, alone with his murderous thoughts. _If our friendship had even meant anything to them, they wouldn't have done this. They would've at least tried to talk to me, wouldn't they? And Harry ... he should've let me have her. He knew I fancied her. He should've let me. Hermione should've refused him. I guess I meant nothing to them, and they don't mean anything to me._ He shook himself. _No. What am I saying? I mean, if I was in Harry's position, I would've done the same thing, wouldn't I? Still ..._

A flash of silver caught his attention. He had stopped by a room, and curiously looked inside. _The Mirror of Erised? But I thought Dumbledore had hidden it again after our first year ..._

He walked up to it and traced the letters, carefully avoiding his reflection. _Wonder what my heart's desire is now, eh?_ He chuckled inwardly at his youthful aspirations of Head Boy and Quidditch captain. _Wonder what it'll show now ..._

Ron closed his eyes and braced himself. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked straight at his reflection in the mirror.

Ron's mouth fell open in shock. He stared at the mirror, unable to turn away, mesmerised by his reflection. His mouth became dry and he felt faint. _No ... no, no, no ..._

And then darkness came as the floor rushed up to meet him as he fell, deeper and deeper.

_"I carry a smile when I'm broken in two  
And I'm nobody without someone like you  
I'm trembling inside and  
Nobody knows it but me  
I lie awake, it's a quarter past three  
I'm screaming at night as if  
I thought you'd hear me  
Yeah, my heart is calling you  
And nobody knows it but me."  
_-Tony Rich Project, "Nobody Knows"

**A/N**: Please R/R? Tell me what you liked, what you didn't, and what you think is going to happen. So where is Dumbledore? What's going on with Malfoy, and what is Ron going to do? We know he's upset, but surely he wouldn't go that far, would he? Who knows? And what exactly did he see in the Mirror? Harry and Hermione seem to be having fun together, though ... g Chapter three should be posted ... eventually. Review, please?


End file.
